Why I'm not going to Burundi

Kigoma Travel Blog

1- It's dangerous. Not super-dangerous. Probably even safe by any
rational standards. But, the peace is young (a month or so), life is
not entirely calm (mass arrests a couple of weeks ago) and though not
much, that's enough to give one pause.
2- It won't be as much ffun as I think. The lonely planet make
Bujumbura out to be a hotbed of social nactivity and fine-dining. The
internet is somewhat some sagguine. Now I think that one could runwild
in Buj for a weekend, but it would require an effect and sufficienty
motivation. Both of which are hard to conjure up by yourself.
3- Novelty value is overrated. I suppose this relates to the previous
point. There's a lot to be said for the cool factor of being the only
tourist in Burundi, but without a good time to go along with it. you're
going to feel a little hollow.
4- Company. I love travelling alone, but I miss company. I think if I
had a partner in crime (as it were) I'd be on a bus to Buj right now.
But I don't. And I doubt I have it in me to do it alone without
like-minded folks to keep me occupied. Moreover, I have intersting and
sparkling company to meet in Malawi, and that's as much of a draw is
late nights in dangerous places.

And finally, I'm scared. Not of morters or of rebal attacks or even of
simple petites bandites. No, I'm scard to the the complicated journey.
The multiple bus rides, the hassle, the border issues and the general
unstraightforwardness of getting from A to B. Intellectually, I know
I'll manage the troubles and make it, but emotionally I simply can't
bring myself to do it. I supppose that time comes in to it to some
great degree. The jaunt would have added a week to the timing. Not a
problem in and of itself (I have time), but the weighing down of time
pressures is a feeling I'm striving to avoid. I like my carefully
constructed cushions, so I never have to worry about a missed
connection.

Still, rationalisation aside, I going to feel like a little bit of
failure for failing to write my "Weekend in Bujumbura" blog post for
some time.

I've commented previously on the lack of tourists in Kigoma, but it
would be remiss of me not to add a few words on the almost frightening
prominance of Help.

You cannot turn around in this place without seeing a (usually white)
SUV, armed with a fat antenna trundling off on some Very Important
Mission. It's not that surpising, I suppose, Kigoma is a big refugee
centre, positioned as it is at the DRC/Burundi/Tanzania border, but
still given the absense of much else in the way of western influence
(see Arusha, Moshi, Dar es Salaam for a contrast) it's definit3ely
worthy of note.

I'll leave the commentry on aid etc. to greater minds than mine (I
highly recommend Theroux and Dark Star Safari), but I will observe that
it is hard to know what to make of a town that has all the trappings of
high-end, high-cost aid (and for that matter serious high-end tourism
as well) but none of the other fringe benefits (stipulating that they
exist) and western-style progress.

(The title is my (very poor) attempt top merge market and gratification. Sorry)

Yesterday I spent a couple of hours (maybe a little less) walking to
Kiribizi, a little fishing village near Kigoma. I mostly went to
inquire about boat prices (cheap to Gombe, private hire and very
expensive to Burundi border), but I found myself quite enamoured of the
place.

It's a village. There's a lot of freshly (and not so freshly) caught
fish for sale. There's a lot of fruit and veg. And (ever so slightly
more surprisingly) there's a lot of crappy clothes and other western
stuff available. The place wasn't particularly charming, but I think
it's going to have to join by list of African experiences. It's hard to
ascertain the meaning (if there is one) behind the phrase "the real
Africa" if one's a tourist (after all the real Africa is hidden away in
the boondocks). However, in so far as one can observe it, Kiribizi
seems to be veneer-free. The furious interaction between developed and
developing, the heady mix of the alien and the tradutional and the
sense of being simultaneopusly both common and unusual - that's the
Africa I bond with.

THere's a lot to be said for watching the world go by as an intruder -
especially if your one who is neither so remarkable as cause a
deviation from a norm nor so common as to define the norm itself.. To
be laughed at and dismissed as a simple aside (worth a couple of
minutes entertainment, but no more) is maybe not an indication that you
are experiencing virgin territory, but a tleast it's a hint that you're
seeing something of reality.

(God, this is pretentious, I apologise for the idiotic philosophising (but not so much that I'll take it down).)

Yes, that's right, I'm outta here. After much confusion I have a 2nd
class (again, don't people understand that I'm a wealthy westerner with
money to burn?) ticket to Kasanga. And, assuming nothing goes wrong
(ha, as if), I'll be in Malawi by Sunday.

The tedium involved in getting a ticket was going to lead me to make
some sweeping observations about African society and the fact that
informal structures dictate economic interaction. However, to be
honest, I cannot be certain of the distinction between language and
social barriers so I'll refrain from commenting for now. Though, I will
point out that were it the case that the lack of well-developed norms
for commerce made it difficult to buy something, this could be
intepreted as both good and bad (depending on you particular political
philosophy), and while I have a bias towards western norms and ease of
commerce, I'll swing for a good counter-arguement.